The Violet Hour
by Moonlight Echo
Summary: It's coming.. Every sixty moons a magical flower blooms, only during the Violet Hour. After that period of time ends, the flower withers, never to experience life again until the next hour occurs. With its majestic appearance and beautiful aroma it lures any creature in, healing even the most ill being. In her most desperate time of need.. More summary inside.
1. Prologue - Hope Emerges Within

_The Violet Hour_

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**Full Summary**

_It's coming.._

Every sixty moons a magical flower blooms, only during the Violet Hour. After that period of time ends, the flower withers, never to experience life again until the next hour occurs. With its majestic appearance and beautiful aroma it lures any creature in, healing even the most ill being.

In her most desperate time of need, Frozenfeather, a medicine cat, has taken to the legend of the infamous Violet Hour and hopes to save the one she deeply cares for, one who is dying. She is neither aware of when the hour starts nor does she know when it ends; but Frozenfeather is willing to attempt the impossible. Will she be able to find this eerie flower? Or will she miss her chance?

_When will the Violet Hour end?_

_._

**The Violet Hour**

_ The hour of rush and wonder, when the affections glow again and valor is reborn, when the shadows deepen magically along the edge of the forest.. _

– Bernard DeVoto, The Hour

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**_Prologue - Hope Emerges Within the Darkest Shadow_**

** An act of valor.**_ How could something simply honorable progress so vainly? _

Since the beginning of time itself, things have taken a turn for the worst, lost in their own sinful nature. It is as natural as a tree loses its foliage in leaf-fall, but it approaches life subtly. For we are drenched so deep that daily actions do not affect us like they should.

As lies are told to intoxicate thinking, the most common cat mutates their appearance with such guile. Twisting the truth - even slightly - to fit our description of what we long for does not make it right. Once you bend or alter something, it is no longer how it originated, and everything is soon to be discovered.

Beneath the triumph and glory of what looked as courage was unearthed during even the coldest of evenings, as a trust was betrayed.

...

A meadow of lilacs and daises filled the land, swaying with the wind in its own rhythm. Heather softly floated through the air as it danced to a tune - one that spread across the seas and split through blue skies, vibrating as the smallest hummingbird's wings flutter. It was a peaceful noise, never to experience the menacing way of the world, until something this simple turned into a place of hatred and battle. As the field flourished with vibrant colors and hues, it was unaware a disaster was erupting from the cruelest of hearts. Even in what seemed was a creation without flaw, the origination of evil was imminent.

An exchange of snarls centered the flurry of teeth and claws that invigorated the moorland.

A ginger tom shouted, angrily raising his voice above screeching and battle cries, "You will never claim more territory as your own!"

"No one can anticipate what will happen on this ground," an older cat stated, smirking. The satisfaction of what he expected the outcome to be rolled across his muzzle, fresh scratches running across it. Crimson streaked his dirt-colored coat which caused it to glisten over lean muscles that were impatiently awaiting to strike a deafening blow.

Now, in a more menacing way, a growl escaped his throat, eyes slitted, "But I assure you, the most worthy cat shall come out alive."

"_Worthy?_ You speak of being worthy and possessing honor, but you know nothing of it!" The nerved cat spat in reply. "Your kind will only remain at the bottom of the forest floor, burn away and leave nothing of your remembrance but ash." Anger coursed through his veins, resulting words to form into something more insensitive than desired.

"And I will take every individual fighting on this battlefield down with me!"

Cringing through forest green eyes, a different kind of disgust emerged - not that consisting of wishes and schemes to harm the other cat but a sorrowful yearning to bring contempt that would unfold into something much greater than hatred could ever bring. It really was a disgust only of what this world had become, what monsters it had created - such as the one before him.

The ginger tabby grew weaker with every passing moment during such a conflict, breaths growing shallower. "You spoke of making us stronger; now we stand against you until the death!" He had courage to challenge such a ruthless cat, especially as he was much younger and inexperienced, but the tom also had good intentions growing in his heart - which was more valuable than any other aspects.

"Then I shall not have to wait for long," the dusted brown creature quickly replied, something to be feared scorching through his golden eyes.

Soon, flashes of light purple struck across the sky every few moments, streaks of lines patterned in jagged forms appearing quickly before. If the right moment one caught their eye on such a masterpiece, they would experience exhilarating beauty. A loud, booming noise roared through the evening, disagreeing with the battle about to take place in the once pure land; for it knew what was about to come.

With great precision, the older tom struck just as the lightning had - with no notice of its coming or going, lunging for the bite that would drain all life from a being.

Blood trickled down the face of the cat with a simple saffron pelt; to some he may not be anybody - nonexistent, but in that moment he felt more emotion than he probably had in half his lifetime, alive as in death. In that moment of his last breath, he was neither filled with regret nor had pleads for his life buzzing through his mind. All he thought about was the great joy of the better life to come for him and a hope he wished for ones he was leaving behind. It was a seemingly horrific thing to realize that your whole life lasted longer than you could imagine - yet it was nothing compared to eternity, that you had to stand through the pain and grief you experienced - yet your last moment was taken away too quickly for you to even grasp dying.

But this tom accepted it, even if he almost longed to stay conscious through searing pain so he could live for just minutes longer.

As anticipated, the older tom had clasped his teeth around the others throat, towering over as he watched all that physically stirred the younger cat pour out.

A clap of thunder grew louder and immediately drops of cleansing liquid fell from above. Washing away a dirtied clearing, the shower provided a new chance and erased evidence of a corrupt past - even if it had already spread its contagion.

...

Only then, was the innocence irrevocably replaced with a consuming darkness, haunted by death.

_But after all that has been revealed, what if you were told there __**was**__ hope? _All but one flower was destroyed that evening, after the battle had continued shortly on.

The vanity of surrounding enemies created a barrier of destruction and unending distress, yet the glowing violet illuminated the night with a promise - faith and love.

It was hidden where the conflict had started and ended itself. The flower was protected by what kindness kindled through even the dead - for the were never truly dead to begin with. Though, every other little plant had been overcome with the wrongdoing of many, this one flower intricately dissipated any evil within contact. Its touch would heal generations to come because everything good was shining through its glow.

And in that, the Violet Hour had submerged. The hour death had lost its sting because of those willing to sacrifice themselves for others - so that they had a choice to not be overcome by a slithering evil.

Because where there is darkness, there is also light.

Many acts of selfishness and lust have been shared in more than just a story such as this, but even if the actions by a true heart are forgotten, their paw prints are never worn away with time. On the moon in which the Violet Hour occurs, valor will be reborn and wonder will reveal itself to the deepest shadows. Even darkness will cease to flood through vulnerable minds, and the world will recognize a new hope no being could possibly fathom.

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**A/N: So, you might know me already - maybe not. But either way, I hope my writing tells you enough about me. Feel free to share your opinion, I appreciate whatever anyone has to say as long as it's carried out in a kind manner.**

**There's really nothing else to say but that I thank you for reading up to this point.  
**

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_**Characters and Plot © myself  
Warriors Concept © Erin Hunter**_


	2. Chapter 1 - Calling Me

_**Chapter 1 - Calling Me into a Nostalgic Room**_

This would be the moment, the moment in time that usually occurred some point in life. This would be the moment that would change _everything_. Each situation differing, some drastically important while others simply fluctuate normalcy at its least.

For this she-cat, a very difficult thing was about to be done; at least, that's what it seemed when your whole Clan rested on your decision, watching every vital detail weaved. It made it even more impossible to accept that one of the only cats that knew her better - better than the river knew the fish that swam in it or the trees knew each of its own branches or even herself - was about to die, plain as day itself. There was no escaping death's grip, not in the least.

_A scene was laid out – a beautiful birch woodland glimmering in green-leaf. The constant chirping of birds filled the air while in the restrictions of a safely enclosed camp two small creatures played._

_"Why do we have to do the things we do?" squeaked a tiny she-kit, questioning another who was half-listening to the words she was speaking._

_A tom of the same size channeled most of his energy on a dampened ball of moss, about the color of his eyes. "What do you mean?" Not once did the little brown tabby tear his gaze from the stringy piece of entertainment, it looked as if he had gone mad and was talking directly to it._

_The she-kit was only a moon younger than her den-mate, who was dashingly swift, light brown with darker stripes of a chocolate color trailing from his paws to the tip of his ears. _

_Frozenkit, the she-kit, was, in fact, an ironic name for the companion of the little tom; something about his essence could warm the coldest hearts, melt them with his emerald eyes. But, no need, she was probably the most considerate cat in all of SilverClan. Frozenkit gave a cold appearance, but her personality was indeed able to make up for that, not that she was not considerably lovely. Her fuzzy chest, belly, paws, and muzzle were a glistening white, while both light and darker gray stripes decorated her coat._

_The deep blueish tint in her fur sparkled under the rising sun which transformed her home to a silvery glow. _

_As the other kit was rocking his haunches side to side, prepared to pounce, Frozenkit sighed with impatience, "Why do we have to harm the other Clans. Shouldn't we all just live in peace?"_

_Immediately, the brown kit snapped his head in her direction, merging with her icy blue eyes, ones that were full of misunderstanding and hurt. Though, he only scowled, trying to grasp her question in confusion, "If we didn't fight back, StoneClan and EchoClan would surely have our tails!" _

_The she-kit tried to reason, head cocked to the side innocently, "I know. But what if we all called a truce?" _

"_Something like that," she added, eyes trailing to the ground in discouragement. _

_The brown tabby's attention gradually turned to such a conversation of a dream - a dream of a young kit hoping to find harmony with the world. Without notice, light paws quickly skidded over the ground, pinning Frozenkit. _

_Green careless eyes danced in front of curious ones, "You think too much!" A small smile curled across his muzzle as he playfully scolded her._

"_And what is wrong with thinking?" Frozenkit asked, a little pink mouth opened in befuddlement. _

_She did not get an answer to that question; only a laugh twinkled the warm afternoon with a genuine happiness that the little she-kit would carry in her mind throughout her years, even if then she did not quite understand. In that moment, she had learned to smile. _

_Frozenkit still lay in that memory, after what seemed like many moons. Frosted eyes widened in honesty, she made a promise to her friend, to herself, "I will find a way. I promise I will find a way to find a change for all of the Clans."_

A sudden memory must have been triggered then, for it came in a flashback, an echo ringing through her ears. Pain ached through her whole body, but the amusement of what a dream she wished for as a kit brought back an innocence she welcomed. It was comforting to think that at such an age, the world seemed so big, full of possibilities. Soon, that version of herself was to find that those possibilities were not always good.

The she-cat paused, letting all of this seep into her to prepare her for whatever she may face now.

Only when she saw his bright green eyes did she feel a comfort wrap itself around her, the same eyes that could cheer up any gloomy day were always sparkling with mischief or joy.

Frozenfeather, which was her title now, gingerly walked up to the one most like a litter-mate. She tried betraying all concerns and cuffed the frazzled cat playfully. His fur was spiked in all different directions and angles, giving him a crazed appearance as well as his name, Thistlestorm. "You lazy, old tom. What are you doing lying down?" the medicine cat chimed.

He gave a good-natured laugh, but it wasn't what it seemed to be; it was more calm than she had ever seen him... he was avoiding the truth as well; they both knew it.

The air was stiff. There was something choking them both, with something they didn't dare speak of. Frozenfeather now tried desperately to keep the beating of heart from speeding abnormally or her legs from causing her to collapse to the ground. All she wanted to do was tightly shut her eyes and never open them again, but she knew that they must be kept open and alert.

Thistlestorm heaved himself up as sturdily as he could, shifting into the most comfortable sitting position possible in a cold, dark den that reeked of sickness and death.

Frozenfeather didn't want to think about any of this.

He gave her a reassuring look, like he was accepting his time had come sooner than expected. She knew this was a lie, a cover-up. "We both know what's going to happen-" the tabby tom broke eye contact for awhile, trailing off.

She shook her head defiantly, "No." Again she told him in a wail, "No!" This was not happening. The tabby pulled herself into one piece, one that was slowly breaking.

This time she collected her composure, yet pleaded, "There has to be something I can do-" Words brought her heavier to the floor, flooded through eyes of one who just wanted to save who she cared for, save everyone that was catching this sickness. Who would it be next? Her father, her sister? Cats were mysteriously coming down with an illness with an origin that could not be detected. One by one her Clan was slowly dying. And she could do nothing but stand by and watch their breaths grow ragged, then shallower than they were before – until they were no more.

Frozenfeather winced. Not once yet did she have to see a life drift up into the faded beyond, leave their body still and cold – not until this dreaded disease hit them.

Thistlestorm only swung his head side to side in denial now.

He didn't realize what he meant to her. "What good of a medicine cat am I, if I can't save the life of a cat I care about?" she screeched.

"You can't win every fight, Frozenfeather," Thistlestorm soothed. _When had he changed into this? _

"I don't care," Frozenfeather replied, too exasperated now to do anything but let her emotions show. What was she to do? "I'll try my hardest, anything to save you and this Clan. Even if it destroys me."

There was that same confused look he often gave her as he replied, "What _is_ there to do? Sometimes you don't have a choice to make. All you can do is accept it and move on."

"I can't just sit here and accept this. I can't just sit here and do nothing, Thistlestorm!"

Frozenfeather could make out the tiring movements and expression of this tom. She had to do _something_.

"And I know you can't either." With that, she left this room full of flitting thoughts and past accounts; she let them shake from her as the fur along her neck bristled in frustration. She left him, and she left only one memory for him to partake in – because that was the only thing she would hold within her tighter than anything else.

...

That night, the young medicine cat lay under the milky collection of stars above, drinking in their beautiful glow. But when she did, she noticed that one seemed to outshine all of them – but no, this was neither a star, nor was it the moon. This was something seemingly familiar, but Frozenfeather could not recall what it was.

It was really an outline, connected by the bright specks that dotted that night sky – it was.. _a flower?_

In this scene that felt like something so sharp and vivid, something that kept her senses alive, Frozenfeather faded. But she did not fade thinly into air, into nothing – the she-cat's piercing gaze did not dull, only her senses. It was like she was drifting off into yet another memory. But this one she never did remember herself possessing. It was like living through herself, yet seeing through another, seeing something she never let her eyes open to before_._

The constellation in the sky burned into a hot white light, brighter than ever – and then, all was still. All was peaceful. Suddenly, it rested with a softening brilliance that held more radiance than it had among the stars.

This was another scene. In the shadows that were so dominant, a spot of light presented the purple flower. There was something about it that broke up the black, that made it weaken in its presence.

"This is your destiny." A glitch of a sound informed, layered into a world beyond what Frozenfeather knew.

And that was when old wounds were broken open again, when this hidden light was shielded in the darkest of forests. It would be found again – but only during The Violet Hour.

...

It was all a dream for Frozenfeather as in this dimension she really lay in a carefully woven nest – not one in the dirt under the wonders of Silverpelt.

At this, her paws and whiskers twitched in slumber, becoming more like a vigorous shaking. With a jolt, the tabby sprang up with both fear and wonder raging, swirling in her icy orbs.

The medicine cat spoke – not that filled with a tone of makeshift conversation, but in a gasp, "I must go in search for an hour, one that could have passed or may come too late**.**"

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**A/N: Ahaha. Yes, the plot is already unraveling at my paws. What do you think is to happen? Please, feel free to tell me what you think. Stay, chat, conspire with me.**

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_**Characters and Plot © myself  
Warriors Concept © Erin Hunter**_


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